


oneshots (multifandom)

by BEETLEJFU



Category: Homestuck, IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Writing Exercise, alot of angst probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22044565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BEETLEJFU/pseuds/BEETLEJFU
Summary: Oneshots I've written:CONTENTS:1.) IT, Eddie/Richie2.) Homestuck John/Dave
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, John Egbert/Dave Strider
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rejoice aka Catholic Guilt as a character trait.  
> “But i think there’s a god and he hears, either way, i rejoice...”

There had always been irrefutable proof of god to Eddie. The way the sun left bright, luminescence around clouds just before they let themselves fall to the ground, and the way the dry and cracked ground accepted so graciously the rain.  
He knew God was real because of the taste of summertime, with all its sunscreen lotion, and chlorination he wasn’t allowed near, and the sensation of sticky strawberry ice cream dripping from the cone onto his hands in the Maine heat.  
God was the wind hitting your face as you race your friends on your bikes, your voices threatening to break to spite you. God was the sunlight catching the dust that settles in the afternoon. God was communion wafers stuck in your teeth. God was the red in Beverly’s curls, or the dimples in Stan’s cheeks, the poetry that was hearing both ben and Bill speak. God was the sunlight caught in Richie’s eyes walking home.  
God, Eddie knew, could also be harsh, Abrasive and cruel. God could be poison ivy rashes and sore throats. God could be Henry Bowers and Belch, God could be Bill’s stutter. A harsh metronome against the twisting gears he could all but see inside his friend’s head as he spoke in public, “B-b-b-b” on a harsh loop. God was Georgie’s body, swept through the sewer drain. God was Derry, and all the unknowable horrors the town hid inside its intricacies. God was drownings and Noah’s arc and cancer.  
Even with all of his own evidence, Eddie knew that god being real was an unequivocal fact because his mother told him so. Because when he took communion at church every Sunday, there in front of him was proof. And maybe one day, if he just kept seeing god in the small details, he could deny that deep down, he knew he was going to hell. And a small part of him knew he deserved to.  
For now, he needed to observe as much heaven as he could.


	2. Scorched earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world john and Dave live in has changed considerably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an unfinished Oneshot from April i wrote in like a couple of hours but I still wanted to post it. I have now moved on from IT to Homestuck and I am sorry for the downgrade.   
> Considerable content warning for gore and other gross stuff.

#1: Scorched earth

Johndave, Apocalypse, angst, unhappy ending?? 

Wordcount:  1939

The sun beat down heavily upon the already scorched earth, lending little to no hope of water to the living things left on the planet, not that there were many of those left anyway. The makeshift tarp roof Dave  had built to protect him from the unforgiving sun moved lightly in the light wind. It was hardly even sunrise yet, but that didn’t stop the weather from being petulant and harsh. 

John shifted slightly beside Dave , his figure still wrapped in the light blankets. They, given the chance, would be inside the building, rather than the roof-closer to the sun, but the apartment building, long dilapidated and abandoned had become overrun with those  _ creatures. _

At a more juvenile age, Dave guessed he probably would’ve called them Zombies, or something to the effect of the walking dead-but the worst part of these fuckers weren’t even dead- but rather the product of some stupid new science movement. 

Over the ledge of the roof,  Dave could see groups of them now, their horrible mangled bodies shuffling across the ridged earth in search of food. Their skin was a horrible grey color, and their lips snarled against their overgrown and crooked teeth made it all that easier to hate them. There were other living beings out there. There had to be, but Dave and John had yet to encounter anything living in over five years since being in this wasteland. 

Internet wasn’t immediately lost but in the process of trying to get the four together, it was shut off. Jade was the first one to go, and the other three just hoped that on her island, away from the rest of human civilization she was safe. John had hardly made it here, and it was an ordeal trying to get  Rose over to Texas or the others to new york. 

Dave’s thoughts were briefly cut off by a small shuffling sound behind him. This environment had made his ears hypersensitive to small noises, and highly reactive. 

He turned swiftly, ready to fight the potential monsters creeping up on him, but there were none, the noise of shuffling from behind was just John. The rustling of Dave moving about must’ve disturbed his sleep, and with the mounting sunrise and subsequent heat, it wasn’t really surprising to Dave that John had woken up. Neither of them slept well since they had been relinquished to the rooftop. 

The tarp was small, leaving the only usable sleeping space small and cramped. Dave usually tried to wake up before his companion, allowing him to sleep more restfully until he woke up naturally. 

Texas was always hot, but with the arrival of the creatures, it seemed to swelter hotter and hotter as the number of people decreased and the number of those  _ things  _ increased. 

John once brought up what he thought they were and where they came from, with a glassy look in his eyes as he spoke, but he never spoke further on why or how he knew this.

“ I think it has something to do with ectobiology. A lot of bad people got their hands on that stuff near the end... ” 

John moved to join Dave at his perch on the edge of the rooftop. A slight breeze seemed to follow him to follow as he approached. 

As John approached the steep edge of the building, his mood went from his newly adopted angst, which had come to be expected, to even gloomier. 

Rotting bodies shuffled across the baked earth, their meat hanging off the frames of their dilapidated figures. 

John sighed something dark and heavy weighing on him, a sense of existential responsibility for the cannibalistic beasts below. 

“ John ,” Dave said, attempting to pull john out of the thoughts he knew all too well seemed to plague John since this thing started nearly six years ago. 

John smiled weakly, “I know,” he spoke but his voice was thinly veiled and shook slightly. The air hung heavy around them. 

Dave knew there was no solace against this, no reasonable cure for the perpetual cloud of self-hatred that John began to feel when he realized that his beloved field of study, the thing he spent thousands on and so many years becoming a master of, was responsible for the downfall of society. He didn’t pretend to either. It was no use, John had long ago told Dave that he wasn’t allowed to pity him anymore and that now life was about strict rules laid out for the optimal survival rate. John was a natural-born leader, an enigmatic air of friendliness (which now, through years of seeing new friends lost to the beasts only days after meeting them) had faded and was now only reserved for moments lost between the early dusks and dawns where the night had not been strenuous. 

Sometimes these moments would be wordless, John would slide off Dave’s Shades (Which had become an even more pertinent part of his persona as the texas sun became harsher on his sensitive eyes) and just look at dave for what felt like forever. Other times, he spoke like he couldn’t physically stop the words from falling from between his lips, rambling until Dave could no longer think of anything coherent to say, letting John ramble until he fell asleep. 

The world, all at once seemed to speed up with a velocity that only felt possible in B-rate action movies. 

From behind the pair, a small metallic scratching began at the door of the roof. Dave turned quickly, on high alert as he motioned for John to stay behind him, untrusting of the thin metal door between the noise and the pair. With his sword drawn he felt the anxiety mount inside his chest, working its way down and twisting his insides into a heap. Had it not been for survival, and John’s company throughout this, Dave would have let the things kill him to avoid the fight and gore that came along with neutralizing the beings. 

John rustled quietly in the make-shift shelter for his weapon as dave drew nearer to the door, his lungs working overtime, panic setting in. 

His hand hovered loosely around the knob of the door, biding time for John to join him more closely and giving Dave time to pray to whatever god he still had a tiny bit of hope in that there was  _ nothing  _ behind the door but a small animal. 

Dave felt John’s presence behind him now, his sledgehammer positioned to swing if need be. Dave sighed, finally grasping the hot metal doorknob in his hand and pulling the door open. 

Stumbling back, the smell of rotting flesh and sour saliva wafted in as a small wave of the monsters pushed their way through the frame, their rotten skin pulsing and tearing with the weight. 

Dave went cold and stumbled backward away from the beings, his blood seemingly freezing inside his chest as sheer horror set in. 

John had the opposite reaction, Muscles filled with adrenaline and panic worked fast against the soft skulls of the zombies. He seemed to get angry as the carnage piled around him. The things kept coming in, John kept working against them, hammer swinging frantically until black blood and brain matter coated his weapon and arms. 

“Dave! What the fuck are you doing?!” John’svoice was becoming more and more panicked with every syllable he spoke, voice muffled between the groans of the dying beasts and the moans of the undead ones drowning him out. 

Dave choked out a small sob, unaware of the tears already sliding down his face from the initial shock of the creatures. He brandished his sword, inhaling sharply before letting the air out with a brisk exhale. 

One hand over the other, gripping the handle of the sword, Dave charged into the dark stairway John was now working his way down. Blood made the floor slick and traction became scarce. 

The small concrete walkway had become unbearably hot with disuse, the floor seems to cook the blood on impact. Dave heaved as he sliced through the middle of a beast, the structural integrity of the beings’ body crumbling like a rotting pumpkin. The blood was now caking his clothes to his body. Dave sobbed again, realizing now that John had moved out of his sight, moving further into the forsaken building, the only sign that John had been in the place at all was the carnage he left in his wake and the distant sounds of struggle. 

Dave moved swiftly towards the sounds, flesh, and blood squishing and squelching under his blood-soaked shoes. 

His mind running on one thought; Help John. 

_ help john help john help john help john  _ played like a metronome in his mind as his feet pounded against the linolium hallways. 

As he veered the corner, he heard a sharp cry which was alarmingly more human than the previous groans and grumbles of the creatures. 

“ FUCK ” a cry came from below a heap of body parts, followed by heavy sobs. 

“John Holy fuck,” Dave said, his body and mind suddenly unlinking from each other, a floating sensation washing over him, as he dropped to his knees by John’s side. 

John’s breathing became labored as he began panicking. The bodies around him seemed to be sufficiently dead, their heads and guts spewed across the floor and walls. 

“I think I got bit,” John said, tears now rolling down his cheeks “fuck it hurts.” 

Dave’s eyebrows knit together, concern displayed on his face blatantly. He ripped his shades from his face, tucking them into his shirt collar to properly assess John. 

“Where does it hurt?!” Dave snapped, panic once again setting this time returning as clarity. 

John stammered at first, willing the words but falling short, the venom of the bite already working its way through his skin. 

“ Hey.  Listen, you need to tell me where it hurts so i can help you,” Dave said in a surprisingly calmed tone that even surprised himself. He took John’s face in his hands, forcing him to look into his eyes. John calmed, the gears in his brain slowing, zeroing in on the painful area. He inhaled then let it out, tension releasing from his shoulders. 

“My left leg.” John directed and Dave nodded, pressing a kiss to John’s forehead before moving to inspect the wound. 

Dave’s breath hitched as he pushed the leg of John’s jeans up, revealing a deep gash on Johns’ shin. Dave looked to John, whose face was now tilted skyward, contorted in pain. Removing the fabric from the wound must have jostled it and caused John to cringe. The gash was deep and had to be at least six inches in length, but Dave felt relief as he realized it wasn’t a bite, from what he could tell, and the process of cleaning the wound wouldn’t have to be so thorough. 

“I’m going to look through the apartments for food and water to clean your wound with,” Dave said, unzipping his hoodie and wrapping the makeshift bandage around the gash, pulling tightly to ensure pressure. “Here,” Dave extended a hand to John, who took it, and with one swift movement, John was off the floor and away from the rapidly rotting bodies that had once lay at his side. 

The pair moved cautiously towards the metal stairway, stepping over the decrepit bodies of the cannibals as they moved. 

Time was running out fast as any possibility of the wound getting worse and the possibility of genetic material from the monsters’ bodies coming in contact with John’s wound. 


End file.
